


Nice To Meet You

by deliriyum



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Timeline Shenanigans, general goofiness, sPAPghetti
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15911793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriyum/pseuds/deliriyum
Summary: So many timelines, so many ways to meet.  Again and again and again.Monsters are on the surface and just when Sans thinks he can begin to move forward, the resets start again.  The power to RESET and LOAD should only be possible for the person with the most Determination, but if Frisk isn't responsible, then....The timeline resets to a seemingly random point about a year after monsters are allowed to integrate with humans.  Everything is almost entirely the same each time...  everything except you and the way you come into their lives.  The way you've shaped the world each time.And of course you never remember.He was really starting to wish you could remember.





	1. that'll be $1.06 please

**Author's Note:**

> it begins. (or re-begins). 
> 
> This chapter is recycled from what was intended to be a collection of one-shots under the same name. There are two other chapters that will be recycled from that collection, too. But an idea came to me about how to string those ones together PLUS all of the little plot bunnies (man, I feel old. Do people even call them plot bunnies anymore?) that I knew could amount to a few scenes at best but not full stories on their own. 
> 
> I have this fic about 90% plotted out. A number of chapters already have scenes/certain interactions written out, too. Hopefully this translates to some quick turnout for the chapters, barring any interruptions, like actually having to engage with the world and its adult responsibilities. I also have one (longer, more involved) fic outlined (admittedly in a more vague way) and a casual, more slice-of-life type fic that I'll probably write on the fly that I want to work on concurrently. All Sans, of course, because I'm nothing if not dedicated to my fictional infatuations.

By the time you arrived home, you were about ready to collapse. Today had been a long day of last-minute cramming, exams, and more near panic-attacks than you could reasonably handle.

Thank the stars it was over. For this semester, anyway. For now, however, you were free to just unwind and forget about formulas and history dates and everything else that you’d been filling your mind with for the past few weeks in preparation. The thought comforted you as you shook out of your jacket and slipped out of your shoes, content to fall asleep in your bed as-is.

A nap sounded really, really good right now.

Just as you felt yourself begin to drift into an easy sleep, you heard your front door slam open and your roommate begin to hoot and holler.

“____! Exam week is ov-ah! Where you at? It’s time to party!”

...okay, a drink or seven also sounded really, really good right now, too.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Your roommate hadn’t needed to do much convincing to get you to agree to a night of celebration and bar-hopping with them. It seemed like everyone else on campus had had the same idea. Every bar you went to was full to bursting, even the establishments that typically didn’t see much student activity.

Thankfully, you and your roommate had stuck to your plans to only hit up the places near your apartment. Drunk you wasn’t always so thoughtful to do so. Even as the night wore on and you got more and more sloshed, you did pretty well at staying in line. Until you and your roommate decided that you were both absolutely starving and absolutely had to go to Micky D’s immediately.

The problem with that, of course, was that only the drive-through was open at this hour, and neither of you had a car or were much less in a state to drive one. Luckily, drunk-you, in a stroke of absolute genius, had a plan.

Which brings you to current situation: shuffling through the drive-through with your arms outstretched toward an invisible wheel, loudly slurring, “HONK HONK! COMING THROUGH!”

The plan was fool-proof. Even if you didn’t really have a car, you could pretend to have a car. The workers would think that you think you have a car. The best part? They couldn’t call you out on it! Wasn’t ‘the customer is always right’ some sort of universal law that must be upheld? You certainly thought so. Even if the customer was also on their way to black-out drunk at the same time. Right? Right.

So your mission was now clear. You were to pretend to drive up and order your food, adding in catchy sound effects to seal the deal. Maybe you’d honk the horn a few more times so that the person taking your order was absolutely sure that your car was absolutely real and that your order was completely legit, no matter how invisible the car might be.

The only hitch in your plan had been when your roommate had had a pretend car crash, veering off to the right and face-planting into a neatly trimmed hedge. No matter! You had more than enough grit and determination to pull this off alone.

You pulled up to the speaker to order neatly (or so you thought), interrupting the worker’s beginning spiel with an over-dramatic imitation of your wheels screeching as you came to a stop.

“Sorry, brakes are actin’ up. Gotta get those fixed,” you slurred, leaning in close to the speaker and almost caressing it as you apologized. “S’not a problem.”

“...what.”

Oblivious to the tinny, confused voice, you regarded the large, glowing menu seriously, humming to yourself as you thought. Distantly, you recognized the speaker emit a sharp, amused exhale as whoever was working must have looked at their security feed to figure out what was going on.

“heh. okay. so what would you like, kid?”

“Hmm,” you intoned for a drawn-out moment, “Got anything on special?”

“can’t say that we do, kid.”

Flabbergasted at this, you mumbled to yourself about outrageous business practices before squinting and leaning in close to the menu once again. “Guess I’ll jus’ have...,” you paused, huffed, then leaned back and smiled, “one’a yer fines’ cow patties. Hoooold the meat. Extra mayo.”

Yeah, that sounded absolutely perfect. Satisfied with your order, you pounded your fist on your imaginary horn. “BEEP BEEP!”

“feeling extra saucy tonight, kid? more of a ketchup guy myself.”

Once again, you found yourself squinting and leaning toward the speaker, corners of your lips cast downward.

“That was bad and you should feel bad. Ya dingus.”

The speaker popped and fizzled in the night air as if he was about to respond but it once again fell silent. When it finally crackled to life one last time, the voice on the other end seemed to be quietly chuckling and catching his breath.

“pull up to the window, please.”

Pleased and feeling victorious, you once again assumed your driving pose and vroom vroom’d your way to the window. You pulled up where a white, boney arm was leaning out of the window. After going through the motions of putting your imaginary car into park, you began rummaging through your purse for the stray dollar bill and change you knew must be scattered in it somewhere.

“How much does I gotta pay?” you asked, stumbling in spot a little as you practically shoved your face into your bag, looking for the stray money. “Gots money around here... somewhere....”

Unable to find anything but a few crumpled sticks of gum, you gathered them in your hand and turned to hand them to the guy at the window. You paused, swaying in your spot as you narrowed your eyes at the monster leaning out of the pay window and regarding you with a raised... 

Where are his eyebrows, you thought with alarm. Oh my god.

“Ohhh, geez. Oh, no. Where... You poor, poor man,” you moaned, dropping the gum as you drunkenly slapped a hand to your face and dragged it down. The man, who you now recognized as a skeleton monster, simply watched you with an amused expression. “Your eyebrows. I-I’m... I’m so sorry for your loss.” And... yep, there you go. You were even tearing up a bit.

His seemingly-permanent grin widened even more at that.

“actually, kid... I mayo or mayo not have ever had any to begin with.”

As if personally affronted by his pun, you reeled back and looked at him with disgust.

“Nevermind. You don’t deserve eyebrows!” Statement complete with a dramatic finger jab at his forehead.

He chuckled and shook his head at you a little before finally reaching somewhere behind him and producing a bag.

“fine, fine. I know when it’s time to give up on a dream like that and just relish what I have.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.” You kept your eyes narrowed at him.

“heh. okay. see ya, kid.”

You continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, going so far as to start driving backwards just so you could keep your eyes trained on him. He simply smiled and waved.

It didn’t occur to you that your roommate was probably still passed out in that bush until you were back home.

\--------------------------

The next morning, you woke up with the worst hangover of your life and a rather irritable roommate. After popping a few tylenol and settling down on your couch with some tea (making vague promises to yourself to never, ever drink again), you spotted the unopened paper bag from McDonald’s. Curious, and vaguely recalling the previous night’s antics, you peered inside. Some sort of sandwich.

You reached in and unwrapped it, immediately making a face as a huge glob of mayo dripped down your front and into your lap. Between the two hamburger buns was nothing but mayo. Not wanting to drip the condiment onto the floor or couch if you stood up right away, you grabbed the wrapper, hoping to somehow wipe the majority up with that.

Something about the wrapper made you pause, and you narrowed your eyes at it as you turned it in your hand for a better luck.

Instead of the arching logo of McDonald’s, the wrapper bore the logo of... Burger King??

“HOW.”


	2. someone call the fire department

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/3 of the recycled chapters. 
> 
> things were edited/changed a bit in some spots, but the chapter is 99% the same as it was in the old one-shot collection. I know it still seems like this is just a one-shot collection now, but it will all come together, I promise!

“Not a single word.”

Face flushed with embarrassment, you pointedly looked away from your friend, who was doubled over in laughter and doing absolutely nothing to help your predicament. You narrowed your eyes at the ground, finding a particularly interesting patch of dirt. It was getting hard to pretend the intense, squeezing pressure around your thighs didn’t hurt.

“You’re so stupid and I can’t believe-” your friend snorted, one hand covering her mouth as she tried to calm her laughter and catch her breath. “The swing is meant for, like, five-year-olds! Of course you were going to get stuck!”

The heat of your blush had now reached the tips of your ears. You felt like you were shrinking from the humiliation. If only that were the case; maybe then you’d be able to lift yourself out of this swing. It’s not like you didn’t realize your legs were much too big to fit in the small thing. You hadn’t even meant to put your legs through the holes in the first place, really. The plan had been to squat in the damned thing to swing, but your feet had slipped and... Well, here you were.

“Okay, ha ha, it’s hilarious. Thanks. Can you at least try to help me?” Shit. That sounded a little more desperate than you’d meant for it to sound.

While your friend quieted her giggles, she still had a shit-eating grin that you tried to ignore. The quicker you figured out how to escape this death trap the sooner you could regain feeling in your legs.

“Looks pretty tight. Any idea how you’re gonna get out?”

“Yeah, uh,” you started, glaring down the seat in thought. “Why don’t you, uh... push down? While I grab the chains here and try to lift out?”

She didn’t seem too convinced that would work, but placed her hands on the sides of the seat, anyway. On a count of three, she began to push down while you used your limited upper body strength to try to pull yourself up. Man, this was really starting to hurt....

“need any help?”

Oh, great. Just what you needed, you thought. Someone else to bear witness to your humiliation. Your friend seemed to think the arrival of someone new was fantastic, though. She responded while you tried to avoid eye contact with whoever the voice belonged came from. Oh, the shame.

“Oh my God, yes! She’s been stuck for, like, an hour now. Can you do anything?”

The owner of the voice approached slowly, a hum deep in his throat as he considered your predicament. You looked up at him long enough to note that he was a monster, on the short side, and had the most amused, shit-eating grin on his face. It put your friends’ to shame for sure. You made eye contact and he paused for a moment, eyebrow ridges scrunched together for the briefest of moments, before he slid back into that easy smile. 

Part of you vaguely recalled seeing him in the area before, so maybe he lived in the same series of apartment complexes you did? You were sure you’d never formally met, but... Okay, you definitely recognized him and he definitely might have caught you staring a few times in the past. For some reason, you had briefly gotten the feeling that he maybe recognized you, too, but you couldn't be sure.

“i think I can swing something.”

You’re not sure if the sound that you just produced was a snort or a groan, but he seemed to like your response. His smile grew even wider, the pinpricks of light in his eye sockets meeting your eyes. He started walking in circles around you, taking full stock of the situation.

“...any ideas?” you asked after a moment, nervous at his scrutiny. Another contemplative hum, and he was wiggling his boney finger between your hip and the seat. The high-pitched yelp you made from the unexpected contact was probably not the most dignified sound you had ever made. And your blush must’ve gotten that much worse, because your friend was waggling her eyebrows at you. Oh, geez.

“looks like you’re stuck in there pretty good. i don’t know. i’m kind of going back and forth on a few different options here.”

There goes another snort-groan. You tell yourself it’s because you’re light headed from losing circulation in your legs. Yeah, that’s it.

“Seriously, though, my legs feel like they’re about to fall off.” You glanced over at your friend, who seemed to have finally noticed the way your thighs are turning colors around the leg holes of the seat. “Can you... are you gonna actually be able to help me or not?”

“heh. yeah, sure. give me a second here.”

He circles back around you again, and this time you try to look over your shoulder to see what he’s doing. The part of you that isn’t focused on your numb legs notes that, somehow, he’s kinda cute. Okay, he’s really cute. Why had you never noticed that in all the times you’d seen him around? Is it racist (monsterphobic?) for you to wonder how a skeleton can be cute?

Either way, you somehow feel even more humiliated about your situation now that you’ve taken a look at him and find him attractive. Oh, boy.

Then, as if it helps your current train of thought, he placed his hands on the hips of the seat, his thumb bones grazing your skin just the tiniest bit. What is he doing?

There’s a small flash of blue light on either side of you, and suddenly the hard plastic of the swing is pulled down and away from you. You note that it almost felt like being pantsed, but the immense build-up of pressure on your thighs is relieved and it feels so good to not be trapped anymore. Unfortunately, your legs really had gotten very numb and, without the swing to hold you up, you crumpled to your knees the moment you’re released. Your friend claps and cheers at your rescue.

“there ya go.”

“Oh, man, this feels so good,” you moan, rubbing roughly at your thighs to get the blood flow back to normal.

“You okay now, ____?” your friend asks, kneeling next to you. “Sorry I couldn’t be much help myself.”

“It’s okay. You tried,” you assured her. “I’m just lucky that...”

You trailed off as you looked around, hoping to thank your savior, but he was gone. You hadn’t even heard him walk away. Well, that sucks, you think with a frown. Then again, he likely has better things to do than to stick around an idiot who gets stuck in a child’s swing at a playground. Still, you hoped you would get to see him around again sometime.

\-------------------------

It was late, and cold, and this just really wasn’t your day. And also, this playground was cursed. It had to be.

Here you were, all by yourself as the sun began to set, somehow folded up and stuck in a broken slide.

You really had to stop coming to this place. (Or at least stop climbing on the playground equipment meant for children.)

You had been on your way home, taking the route through the park, when you’d decided you wanted to go down the short, plastic slide. But you hadn’t expected to get stuck when the plastic cracked into a large hole, basically swallowing up your butt into the void of space beneath the slide. Your hands were free, but you couldn’t reach around the slide and into your back pocket, where your phone was. Perfect.

“Hello!” you called out, the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes, feeling miserable and humiliated.

“hi.”

Shit. How did he sneak up on you like that? And of course it would have to be one of the only other people who knew that you’d been bested by playground equipment just days ago.

“Please put me out of my misery,” you groaned.

The monster who had rescued you before walked to the front of the slide.

“hang out here often?”

Shaking your head, face flushed a brilliant red, you buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. When you lifted your head to face him once again, his head was tilted in curiosity and amusement. He looked so cute. Oh no.

“this is becomin’ a real problem for you, ain’t it, kid?”

“This playground is cursed,” you mumbled after a long moment, “Not my fault.” At this rate, he would think you were doing it on purpose!

“uh huh.” He leaned over, tilting his head and looking at everything hanging below the hole in the slide.

...which was basically your ass, for the most part. No, your face wasn’t burning. Nope.

“looks like you’re stuck in there pretty good, butt I think I can help ya out. again.”

This time he simply grabbed your hands to help pull you out without the use of magic. At least, you think that’s what he used last time. Either way, the help was appreciated. And his hands had been comfortably warm, too, so that was a nice bonus.

When you were finally on two feet again, you remembered how quickly he had disappeared last time, so you made sure to thank him before he could vanish again.

“Hey, thanks for helping me out,” you said, keeping your eyes on him. He couldn’t disappear like that if you didn’t look away, right?”

“again,” he added. Boy, were the tips of your ears on fire?

“Again. Yeah. Um, I guess I’ve just had the worst luck lately. And. Um. Not that you really care or need to know my name, but....” You give him your first name, tone rambling and nervous. You're not sure where you were going with this. “Though I guess it would come in handy to know if this happens again. Not that I, uh, plan on getting stuck again or anything, but... Yeah. Even though that seems to be the only way we run into each other?”

...you didn’t just say that. Oh, god. Now he was going to think you were doing this on purpose just to see him.

He didn’t seem to mind your awkward verbal fumbling, at least. Just seemed more amused, if anything. Did he notice how badly you were blushing? You hoped not.

“nice to meet you. i’m sans. i think i’ve seen you around before.”

“I-I thought so, too, but wasn’t really sure.... Nice to meet you.”

Why were you finding it so hard to carry on a conversation with him? Ugh. Before you could think of a better response to continue things, he was already turned and walking away, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

"see-saw ya later."

"Oh my god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Tumblr](http://boomable.tumblr.com/))


	3. no skin off his nose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos, bookmarks, hits, and comments so far, guys! a shoutout to JazminD who broke ao3 with the power of Determination and somehow left 2 kudos:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> this is the last of the recycled chapters. I probably should have spaced them out more so I didn't set this crazy-paced precedence but I am not a patient person. My goal is at least one chapter a week, but with the nature of this fic calling for generally goofy, quick, no-apparent-continuity in the beginning, it may or may not be a little more frequent than that in the beginning. right now the fic outline has a total of 22 chapters, but that number may very well go up as i work out pacing and such when the plot picks up.
> 
> I'm hoping to polish up up the fourth chapter of this, the first chapter of another fic, and finish the prologue for my primary fic tonight and tomorrow since I have off work. fingers crossed!
> 
> edit from like a half hour after posting: added one tiny little detail about Sans' name in this chapter.

When you entered the classroom, no one else was there. That was to be expected, of course; you were at least twenty minutes early, by your watch, just as you had planned. You had decided to come early to speak with your new professor, hoping to get in a good first impression. Rumor was he had an in with your university’s med school, so when you registered for his class it was with the intention of eventually getting a glowing recommendation by the end of the semester.

Yeah, you were planning on being a little suck-up, but if it got you into your choice of med school, you could swallow your pride.

Your previous class had been all the way on the other side of campus, so you probably looked like a mess now after rushing here. Feeling self-conscious, you straightened your shirt a little bit and stepped further into the room. No sign of other students, but no sign of the professor, either. Hopefully he showed up early enough for you to get a chance to actually talk to him without interruption from classmates.

Thinking back to the little you knew about him, you weren’t sure if he was the sort to show up to class early, but it was worth a shot to be here. Actually, besides that rumor, you couldn’t say you knew much about him at all aside from his name, Sans Skeltal. He was new to the campus. Maybe new to teaching altogether, since you couldn’t find a single bit of information about him online. Not even trusty rate-my-professor had a single review, despite him having at least taught one class last semester. Strange.

With a sigh, you took the opportunity to pick out a seat somewhere in the middle and set your things down. You also took this time to give the room a good looking-over, eyes glancing over the various anatomical posters and shelves full of models. On the other side of the room was a door labeled simply ‘LAB’, where you’d be spending half of the class getting hands-on experience with the subject matter.

There were little-to-no personal artifacts from the professor. A sign he didn’t have tenure yet? Maybe.

Since you were still alone, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to walk around and maybe fiddle around with some of the anatomical models. You found a bit of pride in already being able to name various parts out of the cross-sections and such, knowing their importance and how they worked.

Finding your way to the front of the room, you took pause when your eyes found the professor’s front desk. Hunched over the desk was... Heh.

“Cute. The professor posed the skeleton model at his desk,” you said out loud to yourself. How had you not noticed it earlier? Well, at least your professor had a sense of humor. Your favorite kind of professor, to be honest. This class was bound to be fun, recommendation or not.

Smiling to yourself, you approached the professor’s desk, noting the casual clothes the professor had dressed the model up in. Shorts, a hoodie, pink slippers.... It was almost like he was trying to imitate the casual, lazy dress of the students that were bound to be in the class. Or maybe this was simply the corpse of an extremely bored student from last semester.

Because he was, you know. Bored to death?

“Hardy har har, I crack myself up,” you snickered, shaking your head. After casting a glance toward the door to make sure you were still alone, you leaned forward across the desk. You pinched the material of the sleeve between your fingers, raised the model’s arm, and let it fall back to the desk with a satisfying thud. Hmm. The model felt pretty heavy. Weren’t they usually made of a simple, hard plastic? You shrugged.

“Yep. Bored to death, alright.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noted how little time had passed. Ugh. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come this early.

“my class hasn’t even started and you’re already calling it boring? i’m hurt.”

Startled, your head swiveled around the classroom, looking for the source of the voice. The classroom was still empty. What in the-?

“Professor?” you called out tentatively, wondering if maybe there was a speaker or something nearby he was talking through.

“that would be me, yeah.” Once again, your head swiveled around, but this time landed on...

Oh, shit.

The figure at the desk was now sitting up, jaw resting on one of its - his - hands, the other hand waving lazily in your direction. Now that the monster you’d mistaken for a skeleton model was facing you, you could see the tell-tale signs of life you hadn’t seen before: the pin-prick of light in his pitch black eye sockets, the head tilt and malleable facial bones posed in an expression you couldn't quite place that melted into a smug grin.

So much for first impressions. So much for a glowing letter of recommendation.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you gushed, feeling awful and embarrassed. You’d just mistaken your professor for an inanimate object, for christ’s sake. “You were just so still and I didn’t think to see if you were breathing and... I’m so sorry.”

“hey now, don’t patella me you can’t tell the difference between a model and the real thing?” Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was actually smiling right now or if that’s just how his face was.

“tibia honest, that makes me a little disappointed. this is an advanced class, you know.”

Unsure if this teasing meant he was mad or not, you stayed silent, eyes still wide and apologetic.

“hey, don’t worry about it. really. the mistake was kinda what i was going for. you were just the unlucky one who happened to fall for it first.”

Oh. Okay. That’s good. You were so afraid he’d be offended about your mistake, but... Hah. Now that you were calming down and you knew he was cool with it, you could see the humor in this. You guessed that comment about liking a professor with a sense of humor still applied here, even if the semester’s first joke had been played on you.

“Guess I lucked out, getting a professor as humerus as you, then,” you responded lightly, eyes lighting up. Puns weren’t your forte, but it just seemed to stumble out all on its own. It was a basic, obvious one, anyway. Nothing great. Your professor still lit up slightly, chuckling and grin spreading just a little farther.

“heh. good one. i think you’re going to do alright with this class, kid.”

Maybe you could still get that recommendation after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Tumblr](http://boomable.tumblr.com))


	4. sPAPghetti dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gosh darned new neighbors are so loud. you are TIRED. you need SLEEP. somehow you trying to give them a piece of your mind turned into being invited to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I churned this out a lot faster than I thought I would. I mean, it's entirely unedited except for a quick reread and probably has the kind of errors in it that might make you wonder if I ever passed a middle school english class, but I feel like I make up for being too lazy to fix the grammatical mistakes with my winning personality. 
> 
> (if you do see any major issues, though, please let me know!)
> 
> also I almost get the most miniscule Papyrus/reader vibes from this chapter but that's entirely unintentional. 
> 
>  
> 
> also 4.6k words. not too shabby!

Never in your life had you ever been so exhausted. Well, except for those two days last week and the one day the week before and oh, boy, the week before that there were four consecutive days that… Well, you were exhausted. 

Today’s fantastic cherry on the top of a long, long day was being held up at your second job for an extra hour and a half. Normally you’d be home around 2:30am, just a half an hour after the bar’s closing. Tonight (this morning?) however, a particularly drunk duo decided tonight (this morning) was the perfect time to destroy hundreds if not thousands of dollars in expensive wines and liquors while they punched each other in the face.

So you were held up while you called the cops, waited for them to arrive, assess the damage, collect the two guys who had, at that point, passed out on the floor… It was just a really long night and now it was just past four am. You had to be up at 8 am. Your already short period of rest was even shorter.

But what could you do? That’s life.

 

 

At exactly 6:30am, two hours and fourteen minutes after your head hit the pillow, you were awakened by the most obnoxious racket from the apartment below. What sounded like pots and pans clanging around and someone throwing around a hammer all at once. For the first confusing, overwhelming moments, you thought that the noise was your alarm. That thought was dashed the moment you also heard a strange laugh strung throughout the clangs and bangs. 

What the hell?

Was that… yeah, okay, that was your new neighbors downstairs. They had been in the process of moving when you left for your morning job yesterday and you hadn’t had a chance to meet them. Apparently they were early risers. Very early risers. Very LOUD early risers.

And, damn it all, you couldn’t fall back to sleep. The banging had continued non-stop sense it woke you up. Normally, you could grit your teeth and overlook things. I mean, why attribute malice (the new neighbors doing this knowingly and on purpose just to mess with the others in the building) when it could simply be a case of mind-blowing stupidity.

...okay, that was really mean, but your point still stands. You were really, really tired and really, really frustrated that your short sleep was being cut even shorter by such inconsiderate behavior. Mean or not, you were marching down there and giving your new neighbors a piece of your mind.

 

 

Only, when the door finally opened and you began to complain into the - is that a chest plate? - of a very tall monster that… Is that a skeleton? Yep, that’s a skeleton. Oh, boy.

Your “Listen here, bub, do you KNOW how early it is and how little sleep I’ve had?” was cut off halfway as you raised your head up, up, up, to meet eyes with the skeleton. 

“OH! ONE OF OUR NEW HUMAN NEIGHBORS! WHAT A PLEASANT SURPRISE IT IS TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE SO EARLY!”

“Ah, well….”

“WOW! YOU MUST HAVE BEEN REALLY EXCITED TO MEET ME TO WAKE UP THIS EARLY JUST TO SAY HELLO….” He took a thoughtful pose, chin resting on his closed fist, before lighting up once again. “WELL, HUMAN, I CANNOT TURN DOWN SUCH AN EAGER FACE. OF COURSE I WILL INTRODUCE MYSELF TO YOU. FRANKLY, IT SHOULD BE A CRIME THAT YOU’VE GONE THIS LONG WITHOUT ME HAVING DONE SO!”

He thrust out a gloved hand and, dazed by his gross misunderstanding of the situation, by how unaware he was by the potty mouth you almost unleashed on him, and by his exuberant naivety, you slowly returned his grip and allowed him to nearly shake your arm out of its socket. 

If you felt like sleep-deprived zombie before, you were certainly… less so now. Man, was his voice loud. 

“I SEE YOU ARE ALREADY SPEECHLESS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, TEND TO HAVE THAT SORT OF EFFECT ON PEOPLE.”

“...nice to meet you?”

“QUITE!” 

He seemed to be waiting for something.

“AND YOU ARE?”

...ah, yeah. That. You gave him your name and explained, “I’m the neighbor in the apartment above you.” He looks at you for a long moment, thoughtful, then immediately scoops up your hand in his to shake it once more.

“IT IS SUCH AN HONOR FOR YOU TO MEET ME! ACTUALLY,” he paused, resumed his practiced thinking pose, and continued, “YOU ARE THE FIRST OF OUR NEW NEIGHBORS TO MEET US. NOBODY ELSE SEEMED TO BE HOME WHEN I KNOCKED ON THEIR DOORS SEVERAL TIMES YESTERDAY….”

Oh. Yikes. The people in your building weren’t the friendliest to begin with. Definitely the crotchety sort. (You ignored the little voice reminding you that 3 minutes ago you were very determined to be the crotchety sort right to his face.)

“I THINK MEETING OUR FIRST NEW NEIGHBOR IS CAUSE TO CELEBRATE! HUMAN, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US FOR DINNER TONIGHT?”

What was the point in asking for your name if he was just going to… You know what? Nevermind. 

“Us?”

“YES! I LIVE HERE WITH MY BROTHER, SANS. HE IS, OF COURSE, NOT UP AT A REASONABLE HOUR LIKE YOU AND I. HE IS MUCH TOO LAZY FOR THAT AND WOULD RATHER WASTE HALF OF HIS DAY LOAFING AROUND IN BED.” Papyrus tsked and shook his head in a long-suffering sort of frustration.

“BUT HE WILL SURELY BE AWAKE BY DINNER TIME SO HE CAN PROPERLY INTRODUCE HIMSELF. HOW DOES SIX SOUND?”

Well… technically, your evening shift at the bar didn’t start until 8. It would give you virtually no downtime between your two jobs, but… Somehow, his happy, expectant face made most of your earlier self-righteous anger melt away. Maybe tonight you could just calmly explain to him what had happened this morning and why you were upset? He definitely didn’t seem the type who would deny a polite request. 

“Six would be fine?”

“EXCELLENT! I WILL COOK YOU THE FINEST CUISINE KNOWN TO MONSTER AND HUMAN KIND! NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE A GREAT DEAL OF UNPACKING TO DO BEFORE OUR DINNER. HAVE A GREAT DAY, HUMAN!”

And he not-so-gently shut the door, seemingly unaware of just how close your face was. 

Today was going to be another long, long day.

 

 

You have absolutely no idea how you’re awake right now. Usually you need no less than 5 straight days of sleep to feel well-rested enough to be back to your normal self after days like the one you had yesterday (and into today). Somehow, though, the 2 hours and odd minutes of sleep you’d had this morning left you feeling more refreshed than it reasonably should have. Maybe your body had just given up entirely on trying to function on a basic human level. 

Something like, “Ah, just keep pumping out that energy without the usual bodily reminders that she needs to take better care of herself or else. When she drops dead, she drops dead.”

So when you arrived home from your day job shortly after 5pm, you had no problems finding the energy to shower, dress, and otherwise make yourself presentable enough to attend a dinner with your new neighbors. And then you still had time to loaf on your couch, phone in hand, until you had to walk down the single flight of stairs to get to their apartment.

All day you’d been going over what you would say in your head. 

“Oh, thank you, neighbor. This meatloaf is fantastic. You know what isn’t fantastic? Banging around like a maniac when the sun was barely up,” was a bit too rude and forward.

“Me no likey less sleep time,” would have been a good option and might get the point across that you were, when sleep deprived, a husk of a properly functioning human if you weren’t oddly energized despite it all.

You’d have to go with the more boring option you’d thought up, which was something like, “Hey, thank you for inviting me to dinner. I’d like to apologize for disturbing you so early in the morning. The reason I came down was to ask if you could possibly turn it down a notch when it’s that time of day? I hope I’m not coming across rude, but I work two jobs and often have as little as 4 or 5 hours of sleep on good days. Last night I only managed 2 hours because of being woken up at 6:30ish.”

It seemed pleasant, started off with an apology and putting blame on yourself in some way (so as to not seem like you’re just rudely pointing out wrongdoing or mistakes about someone else without acknowledging your own). The hard part would be actually getting all of that out in an articulate way that didn’t amount to the same stunned, garbled responses you’d given that morning when you’d been swept up in Papyrus’ own assumptions.

 

The biggest part of you kind of already wanted to drop it and hope it didn’t happen again. It was with all of that in mind that you knocked on Papyrus’ door at exactly six and prepared yourself for the inevitable ache in your neck you’d get by the night’s end. Dude was really, really tall.

So when the door opened and there was nobody there, peering down at you from the very top of the door frame, you were a bit confused. You blinked once, twice, three times before thinking to look down to your own height level, where you locked eyes with a second skeleton. This must be Papyrus’ brother. You don’t think he’d given a name that morning.

The brother in question quickly went from a smiling expression to a very brief nonplussed one then back to the smile. With absolutely no idea what that reaction or his following silence meant – maybe he just wasn’t as receptive to humans as his brother was - you cleared your throat and introduced yourself. 

“Hello! I’m one of your new neighbors,” you explained, tone as light and pleasant as possible as you gave him your name. “I’m not sure if Papyrus mentioned it, but he invited me to dinner tonight?”

“mentioned it? it’s all he’s been talkin' about all day. he’s real excited to host his first dinner in this new place.” He stepped back and aside to allow you room to enter, then shut the door behind you after you’d passed. His hands were promptly shoved in his pockets and he shuffled on ahead of you to lead the way. “he’s just about done makin' everything. i've been given clear instructions to invite you into the living room and make ya feel at home, so… take a seat wherever you’d like. i'm sans, by the way.”

The skeleton stopped just outside a wide arched door that led into a living room almost identical in dimension and location as your own. If the rest of the apartment was similar to yours, the door in the far right corner led to a modest dining room, and past that room was the kitchen. Vague clinking and other normal kitchen sounds traveled through to you. You could feel eyes on your back and immediately felt a little awkward. When you turned to examine the living room itself, you found that your host was already seated in a well worn, overstuffed couch along the wall behind you. He watched you with an unreadable expression. Maybe he was just feeling awkward, too?

There was no other seating in this room besides the couch, so you took a seat a respectable distance from him, but not so far as to seem rude or like you were trying to keep away from him. The silence stretched on. You spent your time looking around the room, keenly aware that he was at turns openly staring and also avoiding eye contact.

Just when your eyes settled on the fish tank housing a single fish (one of those funny, googly-eyed goldfish varieties, although this one was the most vibrant shade of line green that you didn’t know was possible for goldfish), Papyrus’ voice startled you with its sudden appearance.

“NEIGHBOR! I APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. DINNER WILL ONLY BE ANOTHER FEW MINUTES. ALAS, CULINARY GENIUS CANNOT BE RUSHED!” He was leaning in through the door that led to the dining room, wearing a cute chef’s hat on his skull that somehow did not fall off despite the tilt of his head. “PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME WHILE YOU WAIT AND IGNORE ANY STRANGE THINGS MY BROTHER MAY SAY. ALSO THAT IS MY ADORABLE PET, MR. BUBBLES. THANK YOU FOR NOTICING HIM.” And just like that, he disappeared back through the doorway. Luckily, he left you with a conversation topic to fill in the uneasy silence.

“So… what kind of strange things is he talking about?”

“i dunno. he cod be referring to anyfin.”

“Oh. That, then.”

“i dolphinately don’t know what you’re talkin' about.”

That one got a bit of a smirk out of you, and you could see that he seemed to get a little less tense with the jokes, but now you definitely needed to come up with a response to keep this going. Oh, man. If you’d known puns were the humor of choice you would have taken a few minutes to search some up to use. Trying to come up with them on the fly was going to be difficult unless you stuck to the easy, obvious ones and that was no fun. You were drawing a blank

“…I’ve got nothing.” But he didn’t seem to care this would be a pun party of one, because the amusement on your face seemed enough to keep him going on his own.

“whale, no need to clam up over it. i’m the of-fish-al master of puns so don’t feel reel bad that you can’t keep up.” Pfft. He certainly was confident, wasn’t he? A pun of your own hit you then, and you sat up straighter and leaned in toward him the tiniest bit , excited to deliver it.

“Master of puns? I dunno. I trout that’s the truth. I’m sure there’s someone who can beat the carp out of you in a pun-off.”

 

He squinted at you for a few seconds, and just as it seemed like he was about to respond to the teasing slight and before you could voice what was undoubtedly about to be a genuinely insulting question about how a skeleton could squint without eyelids, Papyrus appeared in the doorway with a flourish.

“DINNER HAS NOW BEEN PREPARED TO PERFECTION! PLEASE, COME BE SEATED SO THAT I MAY DAZZLE YOUR TASTE BUDS!” 

Ah, yes. The reason you were here. The dinner. What a perfect excuse to end a conversation you had come very close to making awkward again. (And, okay, maybe you had used up the only two fish puns you could think of and this was a convenient excuse to end things without having to actually admit defeat. Perfect.)

Papyrus guided you into the living room, and you had to say you were impressed with all of the effort he put into things. While the living room had the look of a casual, well-lived-in space, he had arranged the dining room in such a way you actually felt like you had walked into a fancy restaurant. The lights were dimmed just slightly for atmosphere and Papyrus had gone through the effort of hanging up wall draperies in muted shades of orange and blue. The table was set with a thick linen tablecloth of dark blue, orange linen napkins he’d actually gone through the effort of folding into the shape of a femur, and a centerpiece bouquet of pretty white and gray flow-- wait, no, those were also bones. Utensils were set up to the side of each chair.

On the far side of the room, against the wall shared with the kitchen, was a buffet along which several covered dishes, glasses, a pitcher of water, and plates were lined up. You glanced over to Sans and even he seemed pretty impressed.

“PLEASE TAKE A SEAT SO THAT I MAY SERVE YOU.” 

Once you were both sat firmly in your chair of choice, Papyrus went about setting the covered dishes in convenient locations on the table. He then placed the glasses, the pitcher of water, and finally the plates. 

“Oh, wow. You went through the trouble of all this?” 

The plate he had set in front of you looked really nice. While you couldn’t yet attest to its taste, Papyrus had gone about plating the food in the fancy, aesthetic sort of way you see chefs do in the kind of restaurant you couldn’t afford and the cooking competition shows you sometimes binge watched. It looked like he’d gone with a simple spaghetti dinner. There was a nest of neatly-placed spaghetti topped with sauce and a large meatball set in the center. Along the side of the spaghetti were three smaller meatballs placed in a partial circle around the edge of the plate. On the other side was a curved line of extra sauce ladled onto the plate and a sprig of parsley or basil. The whole plate seemed to sparkle.

“OF COURSE. WHILE MY OUTSTANDING CULINARY TALENTS ARE ENOUGH TO STAND BY THEMSELVES, PRESENTATION IS KEY!” Another practiced pose, this time with one hand on his hip, eyes shut, and the other hand holding a pointed finger aloft. He paused, dropped the pose, and addressed you almost bashfully. “DO YOU REALLY THINK IT LOOKS GOOD?”

Something about him already trusting you enough to show you this small sliver of vulnerability in an otherwise confident personality had you immediately assuring him, “This looks amazing, Papyrus. And I’m sure it tastes even better than it looks. Thank you for pulling all the stops for me.”

“OF COURSE. A MEAL WITH A TREASURED FRIEND IS ALWAYS THE BEST OPPORTUNITY TO SHOW OFF MY ABILITY AS A MASTER CHEF THAT I NEVER ONCE DOUBTED.”

Treasured friend? Oh, man. This guy was too sweet for his own good. At this point, the thought of bringing up this morning was basically nonexistent. You would just hope for the best that it wouldn’t happen again and bring it up later if it ever did.  
You opened your mouth to reply but before you could get a single word out you were interrupted by the sound of a utensil scraping against the porcelain dish. Papyrus gasped indignantly. 

“wow. this is really good, paps. thanks for the grub.”

“SANS. HOW COULD YOU?! WHERE ARE YOUR MANNERS?”

“what manners?”

Papyrus let out a sound that seemed a cross between a groan and a scream. 

“DINNERS HAVE RULES!”

“since when?”

“SINCE THIS IS A FANCY, REFINED DINNER FOR FANCY AND REFINED PEOPLE. DID YOU NOT READ THE DINNER ETIQUETTE MANUAL THAT I SAT OUTSIDE YOUR ROOM?”

Sans caught your eye, grinned, and said, “nope.”

That groan-scream sound again, then a deep, long-suffering sigh. 

“FINE. THEN I WILL GIVE YOU A CRASH COURSE. FIRST! YOU CANNOT START EATING UNTIL EVERYONE HAS BEEN SERVED.” Papyrus grabbed the third and last plate from the buffet and set it down in front of his empty seat. “THEN, ONCE THE HOST HAS PUT A NAPKIN ON HIS OR HER LAP,” Papyrus seemed to pull another napkin – this one a more typical paper napkin – and gently unfolded it with intense focus placed it neatly on his lap. “YOU MAY BEGIN EATING. ALSO PLEASE USE DO NOT ACTUALLY USE THE FOLDED NAPKINS ON THE TABLE I WORKED VERY HARD ON FOLDING THEM.”

Papyrus looked up, as if to make sure Sans had understood this very important dinner party rule, and let out a choked, angry sound. “SANS!!”

You looked over and somehow in the 5 seconds it had taken Papyrus to demonstrate proper diner etiquette, Sans had completely finished his plate.

“sorry, bro. it just looked too good to wait.”

“WELL… I SUPPOSE I CANNOT BLAME YOU FOR THAT! A MOMENT SPENT NOT EATING MY SPAGHETTI IS A MOMENT WASTED.” Papyrus laughed in a way that almost reminded you of a cartoon villain. “ON THAT NOTE...” 

He turned to you and made a sweeping gesture toward your plate. 

“PLEASE, NEW HUMAN FRIEND. DO NOT TROUBLE YOURSELF WITH THE TORTURE OF WAITING ANY LONGER.” Once again he was giving off the same nervous energy as before. Poor guy. Having this dinner go right seemed to be very important to him.

So you smiled, turned back to your own plate, picked up a fork, and, careful not to break the structure of the spaghetti nest and cause the larger meatball to roll off its perch, took a bite.

Not bad! There was a slightly gritty texture and the sauce was a little sweeter than you were used to, but the spaghetti didn’t disappoint.

“Tasty! Thanks for preparing this for me.” You punctuated your statement with a thumbs up. 

“WOWIE! I DID NOT EXPECT ANY LESS THAN THIS ENTHUSIASTIC APPROVAL.”

The rest of the dinner went well, you thought. Aside from a minor hiccup when Papyrus realized that he’d forgotten to pour everyone’s drink for them and had neglected to serve the garlic bread sticks alongside the rest of the meal, the conversation flowed easily (and loudly) and you were having a good time. Papyrus was sweet and easy to get along with, and while you sometimes caught Sans with a really tense, off-putting look on his face, he was friendly and full of puns that had Papyrus reacting at a decibel level you were certain might someday deafen you. Still, you were happy and enjoying yourself and almost glad for the extended sleep deprivation. If you hadn’t come down to speak to them about the morning noise you never would have found yourself here.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever. You still had to work your evening shift at the bar at 8 and it was now almost 7:30. The bar wasn’t far but you still had to trudge back upstairs to change into your work clothes, so after clearing the table Papyrus instead on seeing you out.

“THIS HAS BEEN A VERY ENJOYABLE EVENING. THANK YOU FOR COMING! I AM SO HAPPY THAT WE HAVE GAINED SUCH A NICE NEIGHBOR AND FRIEND BY MOVING TO THIS BUILDING. PLUS, IT HAS GIVEN ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO REFINE MY SPAGHETTI-MAKING SKILLS. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I HAVE PREPARED MY HUMAN-FRIENDLY SPAGHETTI RECIPE,” he said as he guided you to the front door.

That made you pause. “Uh… was it not before?”

Sans, who you hadn’t realized had followed you and Papyrus to the door, spoke up from a little further down the entrance hallway. 

“it was safe to eat, but this is the first time he’s used edible glitter instead of the craft stuff.”

...what. 

Papyrus puffed out his chest proudly. “YES! MY CONTINUAL IMPROVEMENT KNOWS NO BOUNDS! BUT I HAVE TO GIVE CREDIT TO OUR GOOD FRIEND, FRISK, FOR INTRODUCING THE HUMAN FOOD PRODUCT TO ME. NOW MY FOOD CAN DAZZLE AND AMAZE EVEN THE MOST DISCERNING HUMAN.”

You smiled awkwardly at him and decided not to even comment. “Well, thank you. Maybe next time you can have dinner at my place and I can show you a recipe or two I know.”

In a move that reminded you of a certain 90’s movie, Papyrus slapped his hands to his cheeks (cheekbones?) and gasped. “WOWIE! YOU ARE ALREADY SO EAGER FOR A SECOND DINNER FRIEND DATE WITH ME?! I ACCEPT!” 

“Sure!” You had to admit it was nice to have someone that was so excited and eager to spend time with you just for the sake of it. You didn’t have many friends in this city yet, being kind of new yourself, and it was nice to have the mutually enjoyed company again. “For now I gotta go change for my night job. I’ll text you later to work out a time and date, maybe?”

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT PLAN.” And because you hadn’t exchanged numbers that morning, you did so then. You saved his number under the name,“sPAPghetti” if only because it was just a punny sort of night and because his over-the-top outraged reaction to puns was kind of cute and growing on you.

Just as you were about to head out of the door, Sans spoke up again.

“bro, aren’t you forgetting to tell her something?”

You turned back around, confused and curious. “Huh?” Papyrus was immediately nervous, wringing his hands together and looking at you in a way that almost made his ever-present smile look more like a grimace. 

“OH. UM. NO, I DON’T THINK I AM! I HAVE NOTHING AT ALL TO SAY EXCEPT GOOD NIGHT AND I LOOK FORWARD TO HAVING DINNER AGAIN!!”

Sans sighed and stepped forward a bit.

“ok. look, you’re nice and all. thanks for coming tonight. but could you maybe keep the noise down at night? the two nights we’ve been here ya been kinda loud. around maybe 4ish in the morning? ringing any bells?”

...oh. Damn. You’d been so tired and worked up about your own lack of sleep that you hadn’t even considered that your weird, late schedule might be bothering the other tenants, too. You didn’t even know you were being that loud, but you supposed with how exhausted you were when you got home, you were probably not being careful of how heavily you were walking around. In fact, now that you thought about it, the night before last was the night you’d accidentally knocked over and broke your bedside lamp. Tired as you were, your movements had been incredibly uncoordinated and sloppy and when you’d gone to turn the light out, you had flung it from your night stand instead.

“WE DO NOT MEAN TO BE RUDE, BUT IT DID STARTLE ME AWAKE SEVERAL TIMES. AND THIS MORNING I COULD NOT FALL BACK TO SLEEP AFTERWARD, SO I WAS LEFT WITH NOTHING TO DO BUT GET STARTED ON MY MORNING CHORES AND UNPACKING EARLY! NOT THAT THAT IS NECESSARILY A BAD THING, BUT….” Poor guy was clasping his hands together in a nervous death grip now, as if afraid he’d done some outrageously offensive thing to you by bringing this up.

You felt so embarrassed, not to mention self-absorbed. And there was something humorous about having met them through that selfish indignation and desire to tell them off for _their_ noise only for the night to end with them getting the jump on you and rightfully scolding you first. You chuckled but had the sense to look apologetic.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize I was being that loud. Not that that excuses it or anything, but… yeah. I’m sorry. I will definitely be more considerate in the future,” you promised, smiling encouragingly because Papyrus still had an expression on his face like you were going to bite his head off. Your assurance seemed to make his anxiety melt away and he was back to his normal, bright smile.

“THANK YOU! AND WE WILL STRIVE TO BE THE BEST, MOST CONSIDERATE NEIGHBORS TO YOU AS WELL. I AM SO GLAD WE HAD THIS TALK!”

“man, papyrus. you’re such a cool and forgiving guy.”

“I KNOW.”

With a final wave and goodbye, you excused yourself and started your trek up to your floor. Behind you, as the door shut, you heard the most indignant screech. 

“SANS!!”

And, as loud as it was (and as much as it was probably pissing off the other tenants, too), you were already growing fond of them. 

You hoped this meant the beginning of a long friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([TUMBLR](http://boomable.tumblr.com))


	5. you wanna pizza me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hmm.
> 
> You're just all over the place, aren't you, reader? Starting to make a guy be a little suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but it's for a reason. 
> 
> Also this chapter is a little late but only because I got caught up trying to make a shitty animated gif. It turned out so badly (and the exported gif is of such bad quality no matter how much I tried) that I just butchered the entire first part of it and left it at [this](http://boomable.tumblr.com/post/178061787319/idek-this-entire-thing-was-a-mess-gone-wrong-and-i). Ah, well. At least this frame is really cute:
> 
>  
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> 
> If you'd like, take a look at the other fic I've started and will be working on simultaneously called 'A Clean Slate'. That one is going to be more slice-of-life and something I work on when I'm stuck on either this or the third (very plot-heavy) third fic I'm writing. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for all of the hits, kudos, comments, and bookmarks/subscriptions so far!

The problem with working in a pizza shop, besides the generally abysmal pay, was that you were always so damned hungry. The warm and rising dough, the baked cheese, the pepperoni becoming crisp in the oven – it all seemed to be some cosmic joke tempting you to grab one more slice between customers. Let’s not even start on the weight gain since you started working here. You didn’t necessarily care about a few pounds gained, but you definitely could not afford the cost of buying a new wardrobe when you inevitably went up 2 or 3 pant sizes.

You were in the middle of kneading some more dough and talking yourself out of nabbing another slice when the tinkling of a bell alerted you to a customer. 

“I’ll be right out!” you called around the corner, grabbing the nearest towel to wipe your hands. After a quick glance to check how the pies currently baking were, you exited the semi-hidden kitchen and took your spot behind the cash register.

And then you noticed your customer and grinned. Oh, man. No matter how many times it had happened since you moved to this city (and into an area largely populated by monsters), you still never got over the excitement of it all. Over time they’ve proven themselves to be an exceedingly kind race with a lot of heart, and that was the most important thing of all, but… Man, were they all so cool. And this one was a skeleton! Double cool! 

The monster (who you thought was male, maybe, judging by his attire? But you felt bad because you knew how someone outwardly presented could mean little in regards to how they identified, but… Okay, you’re overthinking this) had their eyes trained on the menu hanging above your head. This particular shop was well known in the area for the sheer number of toppings offered and for the fact that it also featured a lot of monster-friendly extras as well. As far as you knew, it was the ONLY pizza shop that offered things like pickled water sausages, echoflowers (which tasted surprisingly like a mildly sweet spinach), and other toppings that monsters went crazy for.

You had to remind yourself not to stare. As cool as you thought monsters were, they weren’t some public spectacle that existed for your entertainment. With that thought, you put on the same smile and customer service voice you would for anyone and said, “Welcome to ‘Slice, Slice, Baby’, home of the area’s largest slices. What can I do for you today?”

The monster chuckled and shuffled in spot, eye sockets still trained on the menu in thought. 

“nice name. you know what? surprise me. i’ll have 2 slices.”

That’s when he finally looked down and froze, eyes locked on you. His expression hadn’t changed, but you got the feeling he was surprised or put-off based on how still he had suddenly become. You were confused but couldn’t blame him. All the other employees at this shop were monsters, as it was a monster-run business in a neighborhood heavily populated by them. And with all the tension between some humans and monsters, you weren’t surprised that he might be nervous… or whatever it is he was feeling. There was a definitely a sheen of sweat building up on his skull now. This actually wasn’t the first time you’d gotten this reaction since you were hired. 

“Sure thing! I just put a pie with italian sausage, water sausage, pepperoni, ham… Well, all the meat we have on hand. That thing is loaded!” You were trying to sound as casual and reassuring as you could and, remembering that he chuckled when you’d said the shop name, added, “I call it the meatzza extravaganza.” You received no reaction out of him. Okay, that was a flop then.

He still hadn’t say anything, though you noticed that he at least was showing small pinpricks of light in his previously empty eye sockets. That meant… something, right?

“How does that sound? Two slices would be $6 plus tax.” 

Another long pause. He shifted from foot to foot, eyes still locked on your face and eyes almost narrowed. 

“sure.” He hesitantly steps forward, drops a few bills and coins onto the counter, and steps back. The mood in the room is definitely dropping by the second and you aren’t sure why or what you could do about it. A pressure started building behind your eyes – not painful, but strange and irritating and distracting. He seemed… familiar, almost, but you’re sure you’ve never met before. Seen him around, maybe? Since you lived in the area you met and passed a lot of different monsters every day. Or maybe his intense, silent attention was just weirding you out.

“Alrighty. I put it in the oven about 20 minutes ago so it’ll be done in about 5 to 10 minutes now. Sorry for the wait.” You smiled one last time, felt awkward about his intense staring, and excused yourself back to the kitchen to busy yourself with kneading and rolling out more dough.

Soon enough, a timer went off and you were quick to check the pizza a final time before removing the finished pies. You continued to busy yourself with putting it on a cooling rack, putzing around the kitchen until it cooled off enough to cut, and realized you were nervous about going back to the front of the shop. This was ridiculous. He was just a customer anxious about you being human, and you already understood why. It was nothing personal, not even his unabashed and suspicious staring. Determined, you boxed up the two slices he ordered, plastered on a smile, and rounded the corner to reenter the front of the shop.

“Here ya go. Hot and fresh!” You handed him the box, and he was hesitant to even reach forward and take it from you. Sheesh. Well, might as well ask. That weird pressure and sense of recognition wasn’t going away. “By the way… do we know each other?”

“...”

“I mean, I know we don’t _know_ each other, but I meant have we met before somewhere? Like in passing or something?”

He shuffled backwards after finally taking the box from your hand. Those small pinpricks of light disappeared again. Definitely means something.

“can’t say we have. ya must be thinkin’ of some other skeleton.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” You can’t recall there being very many skeleton monsters, but if he said he doesn’t know you, then he doesn’t know you. That strange pressure is still building in your head, a small area just between your eyes and somewhere behind them. The skeleton is quick to leave the store and turn the corner outside, away from view of the shopfront windows. A little disgruntled and confused by the entire interaction, you grab a slice of the meatzza with a measure of disappointment in your lacking self control. 

Still, it is SO good. And that feeling in your head has gone away as suddenly as it came and you’re left wondering if there is such a thing as pizza withdrawal. 

You glance back out of the windows in the direction the skeleton had left but try to push it all from your mind. It wasn’t that big a deal, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, friends. Chapter 6 here, hot and fresh like one of those delicious 'dogs.
> 
> Maybe a bit boring but Plot Reasons necessitated bringing Frisk into the loop and a sort of recap on what Sans has been thinking/feeling about all of these things. It also establishes the fact that these are not, in fact, unconnected one-shots but fragments of a bigger picture. 
> 
> I also want to take a moment to direct your attention to a page I've made on my Tumblr where I will keep track of my progress on various fics. It includes information such as what chapter I'm working on and what stage of the writing process I'm at (planning, writing, editing). It'll serve to keep myself on track but also keep everyone informed about fic status, how close/far away the next update is, etc. since I don't have any particular update schedule going.
> 
> You can find that [HERE](http://boomable.tumblr.com/fanficprogress).

It’s September 18th and Frisk should have been having the time of their life. It was the anniversary of the day Toriel was able to adopt them, after all. It was the day that brought an end to the lingering threat of the human government attempting to remove them from Toriel’s care. The kid cared more about celebrating this day than their own birthday, and everyone else responded in kind by going all out. 

This year, the second anniversary of the adoption, was warm enough that Frisk had begged for a party in a nearby park. Even though the party rental really only included one of the pavilions and the picnic tables beneath it, Papyrus and Undyne had come early to set up and commandeered nearly the entire central area of the park as the Party Zone. What had to be a whole store’s worth of streamers, banners, and balloons were tied up and attached to every conceivable surface. There were magic-powered lights strung up as well. They were just now starting to light up as the afternoon faded into a warm, pleasant evening.

Frisk _should_ have been having the time of their life, but the majority of the afternoon they had seemed distracted and fidgety, never quite able to commit their full attention to any of their friends or their planned activities. They had spent a good part of the day sending furtive glances Sans’ way, but was never quite able to find a good time to break away from the rest of the party-goers to make their way over to him.

And Sans had been stuck on hot dog-making duty the entire day. It seemed that every kid who came to the park that day was suddenly on the guest list. This was partially because Papyrus and Undyne’s expansive decorations had made it seem a public event. Mostly it was because Toriel had a really hard time saying no to any of the children who appeared at her feet, begging for a piece of cake or a bowl of ice cream or one of the (seemingly) hundreds of hot dogs Sans had had to cook and serve.

He didn’t really mind. As far as running a kid’s party goes, getting to sit down behind a grill all day was a pretty sweet deal. It also gave him a perfectly valid excuse to turn down participating in whatever weird party game someone had come up with this time. Last time it had been some weird combination of tag and Pin The Fly On The Froggit. He hadn’t paid a lick of attention to the rules that had been created on the spot, but he could tell it involved far too much running and physical exertion. Yep. He was better off keeping an eye on the hot dogs and just waiting for an appropriate opportunity for the conversation with Frisk they both seemed to want to have.

It wasn’t until things had almost completely wound down and most of the guests had dispersed that they had the chance. Toriel was casually cleaning up some of the discarded cups and plates, Papyrus and Undyne were making a game of who could clean up most of the décor, and Alphys and Asgore were off on their own, talking animatedly on a bench.

Frisk sidled over to him, Flowey in his pot in hand, and sat him down on the prep table that had been set up next to the grill. They went through the motions of helping him slowly clean up and pack away all of the grilling supplies while mumbling out a quiet, “Hey, Sans.”

Sans didn’t go through the pretense. 

“makin’ any headway on the, uh, project?”

Frisk didn’t even have time to give him the sad, guilty look he was expecting. Flowey was the first to speak, spitting out a bitter, “What do you THINK, dumbass?” 

They ignored him. 

“Nothing yet.... As far as we can tell, I still have the most Determination… And I’m not doing it.” They looked at Sans almost pleadingly, as if they hadn’t already established they weren’t to blame for the resets (this time). He had thought so, in the beginning. Had made the mistake of calling them a liar and even making some threats about it to coerce a confession, but that was many resets ago. He believed them, now, that it was something or someone outside the usual suspects. Beyond that, however…

“its okay, kid. I believe ya.” And there was something there, in his tone, that made Frisk look at him carefully, head tilted and eyes narrowed even further. He’d said that line before, too, but this time it had something more to it.

“Did you find anything new?” 

Sans turned back to the grill and prep table, wiping things up and placing them in the bag or box they belong to with a slow, methodical hand. Funny that the only time he can bother to clean up after himself is if there’s something he wants to avoid even more than the cleaning itself. Frisk watched him as he went, but they couldn’t tell if his silence was one of his sudden dismissals or if he was just trying to gather his thoughts. Flowey had no such patience.

“Holy fuck, you colossal waste of magic. Just answer the damn-” He was cut off abruptly by Frisk, who tugged on one of his petals with a stern look on their face. Not enough to hurt him, but something akin to one of those old human cartoons with an angry mother pulling their kid home by their ear. Sans snorted and is only barely saved from more of the curse words Flowey has picked up on the surface by another tug of his petal.

He took a deep breath, eyesockets still on the slow progress of his cleanup. 

“yeah. been noticing something, i guess.”

This time, Frisk is the one who lacked the patience to wait after Sans goes silent again. This is the most progress they’ve made on this new anomaly outside acknowledging its existence. 

“Really? What is it?”

“a person.”

Flowey scoffed and muttered under his breath some sort of colorful insult that Sans can’t make out. This time, Frisk doesn’t scold him but instead fixed a look at Sans that spoke volumes. If he had to describe it, Sans would say it was an expression that said, “Holy fuck, you colossal waste of magic. Just answer the damn question and stop being evasive and drawing this out.” 

What Frisk actually said, however, is, “You’ll have to be more specific, Sans.” 

It’s one of those no-nonsense, business-like tones that Sans often has trouble believing is coming from an 11 year old. He knew they had been alive a lot longer than their technical age implied, but it was always a little jarring. 

And it’s also strange, this collaboration between them. Before, back Underground, it had just been Frisk and him, sometimes on opposite sides if they were feeling particularly cantankerous on certain resets and sometimes just the two of them, separate but weary of the other. Never together, not almost-partners, like it was now. It was altogether too different and too similar to the old string of resets. It was off-putting, in a way.

 

“just this person. always showin’ up in every timeline.” He struggled to put his finding to words because he doesn’t even know what it is yet. Not really. Frisk seemed to realize that, now, and doesn’t speak. 

“Oh, wow, that is so helpful. Golly, Sans, can you get anymore fucking-” Flowey sputtered, crying out indignantly when Frisk picked up his pot then walked him over to a nearby bench and dropped him on its surface unceremoniously. They ignored his cries of, “This is CENSORSHIP, you frothing imbecile. You can’t keep me out of this!” 

It gave him time to chew over the words in his head before spitting them out, eye lights taking stock of everybody still at the park and how far out of hearing distance they were until Frisk returned, arms crossed and foot tapping away impatiently. 

“they’re different each time. in certain ways, at least. can’t figure out much beyond that.”

“Different how?”

Sans tok a deep breath, sighed. He could list out every encounter in detail, if he felt like it. Every context behind their meeting, every discordant detail of the person between each reset, every line they spoke. There’s no particularly revealing pattern to it, though, so he settled for, “they’re a different person each time. kinda. same name, same looks. same personality for the most part. but their… backstory? that’s different. the world is a little different around them.” 

When Frisk would reset, nothing like that changed. Monsters had been driven underground just the same, nothing about the tragic deaths of the royal children had changed, nor were the falls and subsequent deaths of the first human souls ever different. The only differences between timelines stemmed from the moment Frisk fell and the choices they made from that point forward. 

And that same principal had mostly stayed true from this set of resets. Mostly.

Sans would wake up and it would be sometime random point in time, usually about a year after the monsters surfaced, months after formal integration plans were put into action. Each time it reset, Sans was still rotating between odd jobs the same way he always did, he and Paps were still in the same semi-decent apartment in the city, Papyrus was working as the official mascot alongside Frisk’s ambassador position and at a boutique fashion shop part-time. Or, at the very least, some other casual position that he enjoyed a great deal. Everything important about their life on the surface that was established fairly early on remained unchanged. 

But there were small differences sometimes, like where Papyrus had hung pictures on the living room wall or that one timeline where they suddenly, inexplicably had a pet cat that hated his (nonexistent) guts. Nothing he couldn’t take in stride and roll with, honestly. 

Then that human started appearing. Well, he was sure they had always existed in some capacity, even before these newest resets or the resets where they met. But now it was almost a certainty they would show up directly in their lives in some way, no matter how small. 

The first few times seemed like odd, off-chance encounters that were easily explained away. A drunken college student walking through the McDonald’s drive-thru or the person stuck in playground equipment (that he had assumed was just the result of more college student antics). Small, one-time meetings he had no reason to think anything strange about. 

There was the timeline where he’d decided to take up a position as a guest professor at a local university. That meeting was easily dismissed as just happenstance, too. You’d shown up as a student, which was in line with his college student assumption from the previous two timelines. This was the first time he’d had any extended interaction with you, as you had showed up on time (or early) to his class twice a week for several months before another reset occurred. It was obvious you were just someone that lived in the same general area of the city, and he had no reason to believe it was anything more than coincidence that you’d shown up several times now. He could pick out any number of humans he’d casually interacted with or noticed timeline through timeline.

Even the time where they’d been their new neighbor was easily explained, too. In that timeline, their move-in had occurred after the reset. The unit above them had been empty in previous timelines. This timeline had lasted a few months already, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the number of things that could have brought the human to that apartment building for that particular timeline. It was a little nerve-wracking, sure, but not a big deal yet. And even though it had seemed like that spaghetti dinner could have been the start of a friendship between them and his brother – Papyrus had certainly gushed about how he _hoped_ that would be the case – it hadn’t mattered. The timeline reset the very next night.

But then you’d showed up in that pizza shop. The same pizza shop that Burgerpants had been working at for months before the reset period. At a pizza shop that was monster-owned and managed and had never previously hired any human workers. After that, he couldn’t so easily dismiss what was now starting to feel more like an intentional pattern rather than coincidence.

He’d not-so-casually contacted BP out of the blue afterward, feigning interest in just catching up (which made no sense, anyway, because he could count the number of times they’d interacted Underground on one hand). Burgerpants had never worked at a pizza shop, he said. Would have rather died before working in another fast food environment and he was very happy with his position as a host at a _real_ fine dining establishment, thank you very much.

That’s when he really began pestering Frisk about the resets, started checking in on them more and more often to see if they knew or could figure out something he couldn’t. Because since when had the resets ever changed anything from _before_ they occurred? 

The possibilities – why it was happening, the ramifications of this new anomaly – were frightening in a way he just didn’t have the energy to put words to just yet.

Sans relayed all of this, probably in a way that was so lacking in detail and vague that it should have left Frisk more confused. Frisk was perceptive enough to understand, thankfully. Or they were at least able to get the gist of it, so accustomed to Sans’ unintentionally (or sometimes intentionally) ambiguous explanations. 

“Have they showed up yet this time? It’s been almost a year since the last reset...”

“not yet.”

“It’s been a while, then…. You’re sure they will?”

“not really. but it’s kind of odd and the only thing we have to go on, you know? i get the feelin’ they’ll show up when we least expect.”

Frisk looked out at the park with a thoughtful frown and they stood in silence for a few moments. They fidgeted, an anxious feeling seeming to settle upon them. Before they could speak again Toriel approached, a human in tow. Sans let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, nodding his head in their direction. 

“if that ain’t the most convenient timin’, huh?”

Frisk examined the human following Toriel and glanced at Sans one last time. It took them no time at all to adopt their usual carefree, exuberant expression as their mother drew near. 

“I see you’ve put Flowey in time-out again,” Toriel noted with a chuckle as Frisk bounded up and hugged her tightly around her leg, the highest she could reach given Toriel’s height and Frisk’s smaller-than-average stature.

The kid nodded into Toriel’s leg and said in a conspiratorial tone, “He was saying _those words_ again.”

 

“I see. Hopefully his time alone will give him an opportunity to rethink his actions, then.”

“i doubt it, tori. tryin’ to teach him manners is like pollen teeth.” He waited for reactions – a breathy chuckle from Toriel, a grunt of disapproval from Frisk - before he stepped out from behind the grill and leaned to the side to get a better look at her human companion. “who’s your friend?” 

“Oh! Forgive me. I should have introduced them right away!” Toriel stepped aside and motioned to the human. She placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and encouraged them to step forward while passing along their name. “She is a park official who stopped by to speak with me.”

“’Park official’. Heh. You make it sound more important than it is,” the human said, shuffling her feet and looking between all of them. “I just do paperwork and take calls for the most part. A glorified secretary, I guess. I just thought I would stop by to make sure everything went okay and ask if you needed help with cleanup before I head out for the day.”

“so you were checkin’ up on us, then?” She frowned at him and seemed to note something in his tone he hadn’t necessarily intended but had come out all the same.

“I mean, yeah? You make it sound nefarious or something.” 

Frisk unlatched from Toriel’s leg to approach the human with a neutral expression. They take a moment to size her up, then offer their hand to her. The human seemed amused at the super serious expression on Frisk’s face as they take her hand and shake it. Frisk stared for a moment longer, then smiled easily, returning the shake in a way that has the woman’s entire arm bouncing around. 

“Nice to meet you,” Frisk said, maintaining hold on the other human’s hand and almost pulling it forward a little. Their eyebrows waggle. “Come here often?” 

The human barked out a shock of laughter and Frisk released hold on her hand, letting out a giggle of their own. 

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m here five or six days a week, actually,” she answered seriously. Then, to the group at large, “Always lots to do when the park commission for the entire county sees fit to dump most of its paperwork and busywork on you.”

“Oh, my. You must be very busy! We are grateful that you have taken the time to attend to us personally,” Toriel replied, hands clasped politely in front of her. “We are already about finished, but thank you for your kind offer.”

“No problem!” the human responded easily, and with a mirthful smirk adds, “I actually had some ulterior motives, though.”

Sans tensed, but before he is able to attach any deeper thought to her words, she seemed to realize that her statement could be construed in a bad way, so she rushed to continue.

“It’s just that I’ve been smelling those hot dogs on the grill all day, and… I had to work through my lunch to stay caught up, you know? I’ll be honest and say I kind of approached hoping I could nab one, too. With your permissions, of course!” She glanced at the grill, the food already returned to the cooler, and all of the equipment bagged. “It looks like I’m too late, though. Darn.”

“Oh, dear,” Toriel laughed behind her hand. “I’ll be frank with you. I was not expecting that!”

The usual reaction Sans expected comes next. 

“ _Moooom._ Don’t get him started!”

“why the fuss? you know all my jokes are real wieners.”

“SEE?”

Toriel laughed, and Sans recognized the look in her eye that said she could probably continue this until the sun set. But there is still clean-up to be done, a car to pack, and children to be put to bed, so she instead turns to the human – who is all smirks herself – and says, “I have not yet put away the cake, if you would like a slice?”

She seemed a little surprised and settles into an awkward, almost guilty expression. “Oh, no. I don’t mean to impose. I actually meant it kind of as a joke!”

“So you did eat lunch?”

“Well, that part was true. I got caught up in a phone call with the guy who runs Chestnut Park and… yeah. But I didn’t really mean what I said about coming over to help just so I could steal food from you! I’m sorry if I was unclear about that.” 

“Nonsense! We would be happy to share, whether you were serious in your request or not. Goodness knows the less we take home the less Frisk will be sneaking as midnight snacks for the next week,” Toriel responded, playfully narrowing her eyes at Frisk. She then turned back to the woman and began to guide her away to the other table where food had been set up. “Now, do you prefer a corner piece or I’m sure we still have some center pieces left, too….”

As they moved out of earshot and Toriel relished (ha!) the opportunity to feed another impromptu guest to bursting, the woman waved over her shoulder. 

“It was nice meeting you, Frisk! And, uh.” She paused, realized she never got San’s name, and finished, “You too, Mr. Wiener.” She blinked, processed what she’d just said, and grimaced a little to herself. Sans snorted and she was quick to turn back around, face red.

“...so. yeah. there ya go.” 

“She’s nice, though,” Frisk noted, as if disagreeing with him or some implication they heard in his tone.

“kinda not the point, kid.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

They’re quiet, brooding on this newest occurrence. Sans wondered if this would be one of the times where things reset shortly after meeting her or if some significant time will pass first, like the time she appeared as a student in his class. He wondered if it mattered at all or meant something, one way or the other.

The contemplative quiet is cut short, however, before either can think of anything of substance to contribute. 

“You two idiots know I’m still over here, right?! And I still heard everything you said, despite your feeble attempts to--”

Frisk rolled their eyes and left to retrieve Flowey, patting Sans on the arm as they passed. 

He doesn’t know if this human has anything to do with the resets, but none of this can be a coincidence. He’s long gotten over believing those exist. He just has no clue what can be done except sit back and play that old, tired waiting game until something new, something he can actually work with happens. 

For now, he’ll just have to keep an eye socket out for you.

 

...Mr. Wiener. Pftt.


	7. skeles on board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus takes his first steps toward realizing his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't mind me. just planting some more of those Feels Seeds™. 'cause everyone knows the way to a skeleton's heart is through is little bro.
> 
>  
> 
> ehh. I don't like this chapter. I've struggled with it for too long and I'm ready to just move on. I have no idea how this chapter ended up almost 4k words, either. Papyrus is just fun to write, I guess? and writing him makes me want to ramble on needlessly? as good an explanation as any. 
> 
> that said, I apologize for what will definitely be a heavy amount of tense issues. I don't know how many times I switched tenses back and forth during editing.
> 
> ahh, well. they can't all be winners.

Sometimes you wonder why you even offer time slots this early in the morning. Getting up and facing the day when it didn’t even seem like day yet was exhausting. Still, an appointment is an appointment. You can’t afford to not show up, especially since your student had paid for a full 65 hours of driving instruction up. He’s done wonderfully with studying for the knowledge portion to get his learner’s permit, and he is such a sweet guy, too. Very loud, admittedly, but a sweetheart. It‘s hard not to like him, and his excitement for getting his license is honestly contagious. The thought of him lifts your spirits and gives you the energy you need to finish up your morning routine in record time, hop in the company car, and head out to the spot you are to meet him.

Even though you’re a full 15 minutes early, you aen’t surprised to see him already there, arm waving vigorously in the air from where he stands at the edge of the empty parking lot. You park in a spot several feet away and are barely on your feet before your student has swept your hands up in his. He opens his mouth, make a strange, choked sound, and snaps his mouth shut. His expression is an interesting mix of incredible excitement and the most poorly disguised anxiety you’ve ever seen.

You’re used to dealing with the anxiety. This is his first time behind the wheel, after all! It’s a very common reaction. Normally, you would immediately launch into the usual reassurance, but... Papyrus took pride in being Great and confident. You might have to try a different approach.

“Hi, Papyrus. How are you this morning?” You smile. Instead of staring as you wait for him to make his way through choked, half-words, you turn back to your car to retrieve your work bag from the back seat, then turn back to him just as he is able to compose himself.

“I AM ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC, HUMAN TEACHER! NEVER IN THE HISTORY OF MONSTERKIND HAS A SKELETON EVER BEEN AS FANTASTIC AND CONFIDENT AND PREPARED FOR LEARNING AS I AM AT THIS VERY MOMENT.”

“I bet. You breezed right through the knowledge test, so I know you’re gonna get through all these practice hours with no problem.”

Papyrus fidgets, eyes shifting to the side. “YES. OF COURSE!”

Continuing with the same calm, casual demeanor – a feat harder than you thought it would be, because _damn_ are your instincts to comfort the guy in a more obvious manner kicking into overdrive - you begin rifling through your bag. “Okay, so. The boring parts first. I have some paperwork for my insurance and some liability waivers that need signed.”

“i’ll take a look at those.” The new, unexpected voice makes you jump, nearly dropping the papers clutched in your hand. It takes only a moment for your eyes to find and settle on the source. Standing just behind Papyrus is another skeleton monster, dressed in an ultra casual shorts-and-hoodie ensemble. He’s looking at you rather intensely, even while Papyrus’ quickly goes off on a rant about how late he is, and doesn’t he have any respect for his nice teacher’s time, and oh, by the way, this is--

You probably should have been paying attention, because you’re sure Papyrus has just introduced you to his companion, but said person is still just… staring at you. His stance has all the makings of something very casual and laid back – poor posture, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, easy grin on his face – but he seemed… off. Tense.

Tense and staring at you in a way that makes you very uneasy.

Uh. Okay.

Well, this isn’t necessarily new to you, either. Plenty of students brought people along with them and plenty of those people happen to be their (maybe overprotective?)… parent? Damn. You completely missed who he was introduced as, but smile politely at him despite his continued staring and pass the forms over to him. He takes them, but continues to watch you for a few more seconds before reluctantly looking down at the papers.

“I have one for you to sign, too. Just a liability waiver for ride-alongs.” You make quick work of finding a copy of it in your bag and handing that to him, too. Papyrus is reading over his shoulder, eye sockets squinted in concentration. He was taking this very seriously. And you… were a little unsettled, to be honest, but tried to brush it off. They finish up and sign their respective papers quickly and hand them back to you. At least you have Papyrus’ companion’s name, now, written in a sloppy, uneven print.

_Sans._

No stranger than the name Papyrus, you suppos. And you’re sure it wasn’t all that uncommon, either, because you could recall seeing it before. Maybe.

“Awesome! Well, that’s that!” You smil at your student and step aside, gesturing toward the driver’s side door. “You know what that-”

You swear he’s in that seat and buckled faster than you can blink, practically vibrating in his seat. Hot damn. He’s wasting no time. A quick glance at Sans shows a fond look that quickly disappears when he notices your attention.

“welp. guess it’s time to get started.” Sans shuffles past you and to the seat directly behind Papyrus and, after a moment to wonder again what’s up with him, you circle around to the passenger side. After situating yourself and making sure everyone is buckled, you turn in your seat as much as you can to face Papyrus.

He is staring almost shell-shocked at the steering wheel with hands poised just above it, as if afraid to touch. Poor guy doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself.

“Wow, Papyrus. Seated and buckled before I even had to say anything. You’re already two steps ahead of me!”

That seemed to help a little. His shoulders releas just a tiny bit of tension.

“OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS DUTIFULLY STUDIED STEP-BY-STEP GUIDES. I AM PRACTICALLY A MASTER AT BUCKLING UP ALREADY.”

“You sure are. Okay, can you tell me what the next steps are?”

“I HAVE TO ADJUST THE SEAT AND MIRRORS TO MY SPECIFICATIONS!” And he proceeds to do so. His legs still seem a little cramped even with the seat adjusted as far back as it could go, but otherwise he looks comfortable. Sans has scooted to the middle of the backseat for better leg room.

“Everything seem good?” Papyrus nods dutifully. “Great! Now what do we do?”

He turns back to the dashboard and studies it with a look of deep concentration.

“THAT’S RIGHT! THIS IS WHEN I PUT THE KEYS-” He cuts off at the sound of a keyring jangling together, held out to him between your thumb and forefinger. His head turns to look at it slowly, eyes on the keys with an almost reverent expression.

“You got it, bud. Just remember to put your foot on the break before turning the ignition.”

Papyrus reaches out and takes the keys from you gently, cradling them in his hands like they are the most fragile things he’s ever touched. A soft, high pitched sound starts from him, then, stretching out for several long seconds.

”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

“deep breaths, paps.”

Once again you startleat the sound of his voice, this time so close to your ear. When you glance back, he’s leaning forward between the two front seats to get a look at Papyrus. He’s been so quiet you almost forgot about him being back there.

At Sans’ prompting, Papyrus begins to suck in several deep breaths, holding them for just a moment before exhaling and starting again.

From this close, you can really see the details of Sans’ skull. It’s all soft curves and angles and so much different than Papyrus’, which has a lot more in common with the human skull you know. The surface is mostly smooth except for what you assume is a natural bone texture for skeleton monsters. While you imagine a human skeleton would look dry and like it would splinter, Sans’ skull seems like it might actually have a little springy give and flexibility to it. And it was... moist? That’s kinda weird.

“ya good?” Sans say loudly, and you suddenly realize that you’ve been staring and very slowly leaning in toward him. What’s wrong with you? You note with a little shame that a minute or so has passed and Papyrus has managed to calm himself down. All while you ignored him and ogled his companion.

“O-OF COURSE!” He turns to you after another moment of staring at the keys in his hand. “MAY I, HUMAN TEACHER?” It takes you a moment to gather yourself before you speak.

“Yep! Stick the key in the ignition and turn away from you with a quick motion, but don’t hold the key that way for too long. Okay?”

“OKAY.” It was a little odd, hearing him speak so little at a time. Normally you have a bit of difficulty keeping him on-task, or at least spent a great deal of time just getting him focus on something besides talking. Guess it just goes to show just how nervous he really is.

He sticks the key in ignition as instructed and starts the car, the engine coming to life with a soft hum.

Man, this company car runs so smoothly. You wished your personal car ran this quietly. Your neighbors can hear you coming and going from a mile away in that old thing.

“Perfect!”

Papyrus’ chest puffs with pride, continuing to do so as you point out the location of his turn signals and other necessities and have him give them a try. After that, you guide him through checking the emergency break, shifting into drive, and all the other little things he has to do before he can lift his foot from the brake.

“This is it, Papyrus. Do you think you’re ready to do a little driving?” And just like that, the last few minutes of confidence seem to dissipate. He looks at the steering wheel with such an uncharacteristically meek expression.

“We’ll be sticking to the basics today and taking it very slow, okay? Nothing that the Great Papyrus can’t handle!”

He nods at your words, but looks up into his rear view mirror, presumably at Sans. The shorter skeleton shifts in his seat behind you. He must have done something to boost Papyrus’ confidence, because a moment later your student seems to be sitting up straighter and with a little more aplomb.

“HANDS PLACED IN POSITION ON THE STEERING WHEEL AND READY TO GO!”

He says this in a way that has you, for just a moment, imagining him tacking on a, “Sir, yes, sir!” at the end. You try not to chuckle at that.

“Alrighty, so slowly lift your foot off the break. Don’t put your foot on the accelerator just yet. I want you to get a feel for how the car… well, feels, before we go any faster.”

Papyrus hesitates for just a second before his foot lifts and the car starts rolling forward. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow.

“Doing good! Okay, see the lines on the ground that indicate parking spots? And how there are unmarked pathways between the rows of parking spots? I want you to gently turn the wheel to the right so we are driving along the one right in front of us. You don’t have to put your foot on the accelerator just yet. We have enough momentum for this.”

It is at a very slow pace, but Papyrus is able to carefully guide the car out of the parking space and onto the driving lane, where you direct him to a slow stop. Then, when he is ready, you instructe him to place his foot very lightly on the accelerator and follow the lane to the end of the parking lot.

He crept along at your recommended 10 miles per hour. After a moment, a giddy laugh begins to bubble out of his mouth.

“SANS! SANS, LOOK AT THIS. I’M DRIVING!”

“ya sure are. you’re so cool, paps.” A glance back shows that Sans had that fond look on his face again.

...okay, his intense staring and your awkward ogling aside, you’ll be damned if you don’t admit that this was the most adorable interaction ever. You’ve taught with plenty of parents in the backseat before, and none were nearly as supportive and encouraging in the soft, quiet way that Sans is for Papyrus. And maybe it wasn’t your place to say, but…

“You’re really lucky to have such a supportive dad to ride along with you, Papyrus.”

The car comes to a very sudden, jerking stop. Without your seat belt on you would have definitely smacked your head very painfully against the dashboard.

A silent moment, then a snort and a screeching, “WHAT.”

With mounting horror you’ve already realize your mistake. “Uh… Is Sans not...”

“HUMAN TEACHER. I AM SURE SANS WILL MAKE A GREAT FATHER TO MY WONDERFUL NIECES OR NEPHEWS SOMEDAY, SHOULD HE EVER DECIDE TO STOP BEING THE INCREDIBLE SLOB THAT HE IS AND FIND A DATEFRIEND, BUT… HE IS… NOT MY FATHER?? HE IS MY BROTHER??”

Sans is practically wheezing in the backseat. You’re not sure if he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen or if you’re going to beat him to the punch and pass out purely from embarrassment.

“DID YOU NOT HEAR ME WHEN I INTRODUCED HIM?? OH MY GOD.”

“I’m sorry. I must have been distracted. Uh.” Shit. Was that offensive? It was hard to tell how old they were at first glance. Was that monsterphobic?

Sans’ laughter subsideS enough for him to speak. “huh. guess i’m starting to look more dead on my feet than I realized. and here I thought it was just my youthful visage was driving you wild.”

And now hE’S bringing up your unabashed staring earlier.

“I’m really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and I wasn’t thinking just now and-- sorry.”

“no problem. just… man, your _face_ when you realized. you really shifted the tone of the lesson with that remark.”

Wait a minute.

“SANS.”

“alright, alright. I guess we gotta change gears and get back to the lesson.” The lights in his eyes are large and soft around the edges, now. It’s interesting and kinda...

“SANS, IF YOU PUN ONE MORE TIME YOU’RE NEVER COMING ALONG EVER AGAIN.”

“ok.”

Papyrus gIVES him a contemplative side-eye, but says no more.

...at least until the next pun and the one after that. With his extreme reactions to his brother’s jokes, you are honestly surprised at how well Papyrus manages to drive through it all. It was funny at first, but after 2 hours of the same jokes…. You think that maybe Sans is repeating some frequently purely because Papyrus’ reactions to repeats are the loudest. Actually, you’re sure of it, going by the way he catches your eye and smirks now and then after a repeated offense..

Hey, at least he’s stopped fixing you with that harsh glare. Whatever almost-hostility he’d felt toward you in the beginning seems to have disappeared. That is something to be thankful for, at least. Good to know the way to his metaphorical heart is embarrassing yourself in his presence.

Papyrus has grown very confident by the end of the 3 hour mark. For good reason, too – he’s taken to everything like a natural and progressed more in these last 3 hours than some students did in 4 or 5 sessions. He’s gotten through the basics with ease. After allowing him to try to pull into a parking spot (which he did with the ease of a more experienced driver), he had taken it upon himself to try parallel parking as well. You hadn’t been sure if it was really the right time to attempt it yet, but he’d been so insistent and you did have the cones in the trunk.

And to your surprise, Papyrus nails it on his first try without even giving you time to explain the process to him. To say you’re impressed was an understatement. The guy has the most amazing spatial awareness you’d ever encountered, if you’re being honest. Who knew it would all come so easily to him once he managed to work past his nerves?

A thought occurs to you as you mentally retrace today’s lesson and try to pinpoint when Papyrus’ anxiety began to ebb away. Despite his very loud and frequent objections to Sans’ puns, you are sure it began when Sans was flinging those puns around like his life depended on it. Papyrus had reached a certain level of calm, then -- on the inside, at least.

You can’t help but look over to Sans as he speaks with Papyrus a few yards away, waiting for you to fill out the scorecard and notes for the session. Had that been his intention all along? If so, it’s incredibly sweet and (once again, if you were being honest with yourself in the privacy of your own mind) it was making you feel some sort of way.

You aen’t quite sure what expression you have at that moment, but when Sans looks over his shoulder at you and catches your eye, he freezes for the barest of seconds before speaking up. Damn it. Caught staring again.

“done already?”

“Yep! Not much to it. I have the scorecard here if you’d-”

Papyrus rips the papers out of your hand before you can even finish, eye sockets scanning the page so quickly you are unsure how he is even absorbing any of the information on it. All the same, he gasps and turns back toward Sans, arms flinging wide.

“SANS! I RECEIVED A PERFECT SCORE TODAY. WHICH I EXPECTED! OF COURSE! IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS TO SCORE ANY LESS, BUT- LOOK!!”

Sans shuffles over and takes the papers into his own hands, looking them over quickly while a wider smile spreads across his face.

“nice. knew you could do it, bro. you’re a natural.”

“I HAVE TO SHOW UNDYNE!”

Just like that, Papyrus takes off and is halfway out of the parking lot before he skids to a halt, does an about-face, and runs full-speed back toward you. You don’t even have time to react; Papyrus has gathered your hands between his and is thanking you profusely. You are pretty sure that the translucence, orange-tinted droplets of moisture in his sockets are gathering tears.

“HUMAN TEACHER. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR HELP AND HARD WORK. IT NEVER CEASES TO AMAZE ME THE POTENTIAL PEOPLE CAN REACH WHEN THEY ARE IN MY PRESENCE! I HOPE OUR NEXT LESSON IS EVEN MORE PRODUCTIVE!”

And then he’s off again, running at a speed that has you half wondering why he would even need to learn to drive. He could probably cross the entire city in a half hour flat.

It’s only after you’ve been staring in the direction that he left that the clearing of a throat rouses your attention again. Oh, right. Sans is still here.

“this is the happiest i’ve ever seen my bro. which is saying a lot because dude’s always ecstatic about everything. heh.”

“No problem! If only every student were as cool as he is, I’d have it made.”

“he is really cool, isn’t he? but seriously. thanks. it’s not often he gets anxious like that. real nice of ya to be so kind and encouraging, you know?” You’re a little surprised with the candid response. You got the feeling he was normally a pretty closed off guy. Maybe it’s just the fact that Papyrus is involved that has him chatty? It makes sense based on what you’ve seen of their relationship.

“Well, I don’t think I can take credit for that. I think you being here for him was the biggest thing.” And, aww, he looks so bashful at the almost-praise. That’s cute. You stamp that thought down the moment it finishes, echoing around in your head.

“heh. Maybe.”

There are a few beats of silence and you’re pretty sure that conversation is done, so you give the usual after-lesson spiel.

“Our next lesson isn’t scheduled yet, but Papyrus knows the website that we use to do that. Whenever he’s ready he just has to log in and choose a time slot that’s available. They’re available in 3 to 5 hour sessions.” After giving it some thought, you add, “He should be able to get the remaining 62 hours you guys paid for in no time, but… I honestly don’t think he’s going to need that many logged hours before he’s good enough for the road test. If he progresses as well as he did today it won’t be long at all.”

 

“cool. he’ll probably still use up all the hours, though. since we, uh, paid already. and because he likes ya and wouldn’t want to end things too early.”

You don’t know how to respond in a way that doesn’t immediately make you melt into a puddle of flattered goo, so you settle with, “I really enjoy our lessons, too.”

Sans doesn’t say anything in response but just stands there, awkwardly and silently, for almost a full 30 seconds. Just when you’re about to wish him a good day and excuse yourself – a thought that leaves you feeling oddly despondent – he speaks up and suddenly you’re uneasy again.

This time, you’re able to figure out why: the once-bright lights that constituted his pupils are now extinguished, leaving nothing but a deep void that settles into his eye sockets in an alarming way. Your gut twists a little, nauseous at the very abrupt change in the mood.

“Can I ask you something?”

“S-sure?”

“Do you know a Mr. Weiner?”

...what.

This dramatic expression and foreboding aura for… What? You have no idea what to say or even what to think about this question. You struggle to formulate a response that is somewhere in the ballpark of, “I have no idea who Mr. Weiner is and I really don’t want to if he’s managed to get on your bad side like this and also because his name is funny and I’d never be able to take him seriously.”

Sans saves you from that struggle, because as quick as his eye lights went out, they’re back. His expression softens into his previous smile as if he hadn’t just been looking like Death itself a few seconds prior.

“eh, nevermind. it was nice to meet you. thanks for puttin’ up with me this one time. i’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the lessons.”

Of course the emotional whiplash isn’t over yet. That statement fills you with an unexpected disappointment that you have little time to examine before you’re distracted by the honking of a small, tinny horn.

You are sure there hadn’t been a tricycle around here just moments ago, but there Sans is, sitting on the small, lime green thing all the same. What the absolute hell.

“Uh. You sure you don’t need lessons, too?”

“nah. i like riding in style.”

He must hear the way you mumble, “what the fuck” under your breath, but simply grins and starts peddling away, one hand raised to wave at you from over his shoulder.

“see ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my tumblr [HERE](http://boomable.tumblr.com/)! I've also set up a page specifically for tracking my progress on various fics, if you're ever curious about how far along I am on the next update! you can find that [here](http://boomable.tumblr.com/fanficprogress).
> 
> thanks for reading!


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